


We’ve Been Down But We’ve Never Been Out

by gunslingaaahhh



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M, coda fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-07
Updated: 2012-02-07
Packaged: 2017-10-30 18:37:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/334840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gunslingaaahhh/pseuds/gunslingaaahhh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The ache in Steve's chest is deep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We’ve Been Down But We’ve Never Been Out

**Author's Note:**

> This is a weird, sort of stream-of-consciousness thing... I dunno it turned out funny? Not sure how I feel about it haha.
> 
> Coda to 2x15.

The ache in Steve's chest is deep.

Since his father's death, its been almost constant. Sure, it ebbs and flows, but it never truly goes away. Sometimes he doesn't mind; it is like a force that drives him, and he relishes it. Other times, though, it feels like his heart is breaking, like his breastbone is cracking and he can't breathe, it hurts so much.

Danny helps, in his own way. His gestures and strange words of affection act as a salve for the pain Steve feels, numbs him to it to a point where it's almost like it isn't there at all.

Seeing photos of Grace, Rachel, Stan, and Danny on that monitor ripped open every partially healed emotional wound Steve has ever had. It wasn't like he could detach himself, like it wasn't his people.

That was _his_ family, too.

He knew Danny's pain, knew there was nothing he could do but drive like the devil himself was behind them, get to Grace as quickly as possible.

Seeing her there, safe if not shaken, was like a rush of relief. He muttered reassuring nonsense as he cut her free, watched Danny wrap himself around his child and hold tight, whispering apology after apology.

Watching Danny embrace what was once his family deepened that ache, and it was everything Steve could do not to buckle beneath the weight of it.

He'd heard that voicemail, loud and clear.

Four months old, sure, but what did that matter? In the heat of the moment, what did it matter.

Looking around helplessly, Steve catches Chin and Kono's eyes, sees Chin's knowing look, knows his own emotions are written plainly on his face, as if he'd used a Sharpie to do it.

Steve is overjoyed that Grace is safe, this little girl who unabashedly calls him "Uncle Steve," but he is filled with a deep, cold sorrow because all he wants is for his Danno to be happy, and what makes Danny happy is also the thing that tears him up inside.

Knowing full well that Danny is going to want to be as close to his child as he can, Steve doesn't say anything as he tosses Danny the keys, meandering over to catch a ride back to HQ with Chin and Kono. Danny doesnt give him a second look, just follows the ambulance and Rachel.

His other teammates are silent in the car.

Steve feels like the ache in his chest has opened up like a chasm within him, great and dark and empty.

When he finally gets home, it's a miracle Steve makes it through his front door. He punches in his alarm on auto-pilot, his free hand pressing against his sternum. It hurts like a physical pain there, and he gasps, choking on all the things that want desperately to spill out of him.

He takes one, two, three staggering steps into his living room before the ache wins, and he falls to his knees, sobbing. Hands and fingertips press hard into the middle of his chest, trying to ease the ache, but it won't go. Steve lets out sound after hoarse sound, clutching at his chest and wishing it would stop.

It doesnt, and he carries on well into the morning.

It isn't until the wee hours, well before first light, that Steve wakes to find himself... on the couch. Confusion punches at him, and he looks around, bewildered. He'd passed out on the floor, a pathetic pile of snot and tears, how'd he make it to the couch?

Steve's gaze lands on the recliner, and he freezes: Danny is curled up impossibly small, spare blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He looks awful, and Steve can't even begin to imagine what possessed the other man to come to him.

"I figured you needed me," he rumbles, twisting to blink sleepily at Steve. "Also: you need to stop talking to yourself, it's weird."

"You didn't--"

"Yes I did, Steven," Danny cuts him off sharply, before resettling. "Yes I did."

Steve can't find anything else to say, just lowers his head back to the pillow and watches the early morning light filter into the house. The expression on Danny's face as he drifts back into sleep tells Steve more than he's willing to ask about right then, and while he knows they'll have much to discuss later, at that moment the ache isn't so bad, and he knows they'll be ok.

-FIN-  



End file.
